Second Goal

by Seabrook, C. M.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  It’ll never be enough.

  A chill that’s not from the frigid temperature cuts through me, and I try desperately to blink away the memories that threaten.

  “Oh my god, Kiley,” Amy had cried out. “What did you do?”

  My heart thundered in my ears, and the world spun out of control. I couldn’t see. Everything around me went dark. All I could smell was the rancid odor of the man, hear Amy screaming, the baby crying, and sirens in the distance that seemed to be getting closer.

  “You have to get out of here.” Pain shot up my arm when she grabbed it. I was pretty sure my shoulder was dislocated. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional torment that raged inside of me.

  I’d gone numb from it. That primal part of my brain that’s only focus is survival had kicked in. It was days later when I’d woken up in Blake’s apartment that I’d truly comprehended what I’d done. Months later when I found out what it had actually cost me.

  The memory paralyzes me now. And that blindness comes back. I can’t see. Can’t breathe. I hear horns honking, dogs barking, the smell of fuel mixed with the freshness of snow. I try to take in a breath, but it’s no use.

  “Kiley.” A deep voice booms, close but so far away.

  Large hands are on my arms. Warm. Inviting. I blink and see Blake’s face, dark brows drawn down. Something licks my hand, then nudges me with a cold nose.

  Pax.

  “What are you doing out here?” he demands.

  I blink again, the world coming back into focus. I’m less than half a block from the apartment, and the light snowfall has turned to sleet.

  “Where’s your coat?”

  “I...”

  He shrugs off his jacket and places it around my shoulders. Pax whimpers, looking up at me with those big brown eyes that seem filled with as much concern as Blake’s.

  “Come on. Let’s get you inside.” His arm is wrapped around my shoulder, pulling me tight against his side as he walks me back to the apartment.

  Even in the elevator, he doesn’t let me go.

  It isn’t until we’re in the hall, and I start to search frantically for my keys, that he takes a step back.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I groan, realizing that I’d left my keys in my coat pocket. “I gave my jacket to a woman outside the supermarket and my keys were in the pocket.”

  Those gray eyes narrow and he opens his mouth like he’s about to lecture me, but then he shuts it and lets out a long sigh. “Was there anything in your jacket, any ID, that she could use to find out where you live?”

  “No.” I frown up at him.

  He rubs the back of his neck. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll call for someone to change the lock.” He doesn’t wait for my response, just walks across the hall and opens his door.

  I follow him in, the yapping commencing the moment I walk into the living room.

  Lady, Blake’s twelve-year-old cocker spaniel, wags her tail and barks until I lean down and pet her.

  “Hey pretty Lady,” I say, scratching behind her ear, still feeling the numbness that I’d been trapped in. A cold that goes deeper than my bones, that cuts straight to my soul.

  But here, in Blake’s apartment, I feel safe. Which I know is stupid, because there’s nowhere in this world I’m safe from myself. Nowhere that Cruz’s threats can’t find me.

  Pax nearly knocks me over when he nudges my side, wanting attention.

  “Okay,” I murmur, accepting the unconditional love like it’s oxygen. He keeps licking me as I pet him.

  I glance up and see Blake watching me. “Here,” he says, helping me stand and handing me an extra-large hoodie.

  Our fingers linger on one another’s for a brief moment before he releases my hand.

  He clears his throat, then pulls out his cell. “I’ll make the call to maintenance. If you’re hungry, there’s leftover pizza in the fridge. Unless you want something else. I can order—”

  “Pizza is fine.”

  That line between his brows is still creased. “Kiley—”

  “I know what you’re going to say. That I shouldn’t be so irresponsible. And you’re probably right. I should have checked the pockets before giving her the coat, but...”

  When he reaches out and brushes my hair behind my ears, my words are lost. “I don’t think it’s irresponsible that you want to help people. I love that about you.”

  Love.

  Don’t read into his words, Kiley, my head warns. How many times has he made comments about not believing in love? Too many for me to count. But I can’t help but lean into his touch.

  And then the moment is gone.

  He clears his throat and takes a step back. “After I make this call, we should talk. There are things...” His frown deepens and the intensity of his gaze has a knot forming in my gut. “I spoke with Kane.”

  “Oh.” Shit. He told him about the money, about me and Cruz. Shit, shit, shit. I try to swallow, but I can’t, all I can do is whisper, “Okay.”

  I watch him turn and head to his bedroom. A moment later, I hear him speaking to someone about coming to change the locks on my door. But I wonder if it’s even necessary, considering Kane is probably debating whether or not to kick me out.

  He’d warned me when I’d moved in that this wasn’t a three-strike system.

  In the kitchen, I pull out a bottle of whiskey rather than the pizza box from the fridge. My fingers shake as I pour a large glass, then drink it quickly.

  It burns straight to my core.

  “They can’t come tonight—” Kade stops in the entrance of the kitchen and frowns at the bottle of whiskey. His lips thin and his jaw tics, then he says, “Pour me a glass too.”

  I do, hand still shaking when I pass it to him.

  His throat bobs when he drinks the contents, still watching me.

  Silence stretches between us. That pull that’s always there, so much more intense than normal. And so is the frown that tugs at his lips.

  “Okay, I’m ready for it,” I say.

  “Ready for what?”

  “Whatever you’re trying not to say right now.”

  He sighs. “You’re an adult, Kiley. And you’re right, it’s not my job to lecture you.”

  A small, forced laugh escapes my lips. “Come on, I can see you want to. Isn’t it your job to tell me what I can and can’t do?”

  “Even if it was, you wouldn’t listen.”

  “No. Probably not.”

  His knuckles brush across my cheek with so much tenderness I swear I feel something inside me break - or heal. “I worry about you.”

  I lean into his touch, wanting more. Needing more. “You don’t have to.”

  “Yeah, I do.” He leans forward. “Trust me, I’ve tried not thinking about you. But I can’t. That’s why I told Kane.”

  That knot comes back, sitting like a rock in my stomach. “He won’t understand. He’s going to—”

  “He did actually. He gave us permission.”

  “Permission?” I frown up at him. “For what?”

  “To figure out whatever this thing is between us.”

  I blink at him, not sure I heard him correctly. “I don’t understand.”

  He moves quickly, one hand moving to tangle in the hair at the nape of my neck, the other on my lower back. His mouth crushes against mine. The kiss isn’t soft. It’s full of need. And the suddenness of it, the intensity of pleasure that hits me, shocks me to my core. Desire surges through me, a blast of heat so brilliant it feels blinding. Our tongues meet, stroke, an erotic dance that has my body weakening, leaving me helpless to his touch.

  This isn’t like the first kiss. It’s so much more. An inferno of sensations licking at my skin. I arch into him, needing the strength of his arms to hold me up. The desperation to be consumed by him goes against all common sense. Because I know the danger of needing someone. The danger of trusting another person. But I want this. Need it.
r />   Need him.

  “Blake,” I whimper against his mouth.

  “Do you understand now?” His voice is low, needy.

  “Yes.”

  “I need to know this is what you want.”

  “It is,” I whimper, nodding. “But...”

  He pulls back slightly, gray eyes searching mine. “If we do this, I need you to trust me.”

  Cold fingers of panic curl around me. “I trust you more than anyone. But...” My fingers curl in his shirt. “There are things I can’t tell you.”

  “Whatever it is, it’s not going to change anything. But I need to be able to protect you. I can’t have secrets between us.” He lets out a heavy breath, those gray eyes so intense I can feel the pain of his words when he says, “And I can’t have another person lying to me, Kiley.”

  What does that mean? Who lied to him in the past? I want to ask, to know more. But fear rises inside me, up my chest and burning my throat. Everything about him is demanding, intense, power. And as safe as I feel when I’m with him, I also know it’s only an illusion.

  “I should...” Run. Hide. Bolt. Anything but let him see the demons that are scratching and clawing inside of me, desperate to get out.

  He’s wrong, he would see me differently if he knew everything I’ve done.

  Run.

  Run.

  Run.

  “I...” I take a step back. “I should go.”

  “No.” He pulls me back against him, cupping my jaw so I’m forced to look at him. “You’re locked out of your apartment, remember?”

  “Blake, I can’t...”

  “I know.” His lips press against the top of my head and he exhales heavily. “You don’t have to tell me everything right now. But eventually I’m going to need you to open up.”

  “You won’t like what you find.” I chew on my bottom lip, wishing things were different.

  He runs his thumb across my mouth, and I can feel his heavy bulge pressed against my stomach. I want him so bad. More of his touch. His kisses. More of everything Blake.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. Sorry for everything. For who I am. For who I can’t be. For not being able to give him the one thing he’s asked for.

  But that’s what we are. Two broken people unable to give ourselves fully.

  He doesn’t move away from me like I expect him to. And even though I can feel the tension in his body, see the frustration in his eyes, there’s also a tenderness there.

  “What do you want, Kiley? Tell me what you need from me.”

  I draw in a long, ragged breath, because the truth is, I have no idea what I need. All I know is I want him. Even if it’s just for tonight. I want him to hold me, to touch me, to kiss away the darkness that’s been eating away at my soul.

  Maybe it’s selfish and greedy, because I know how this will end. I’m living here on borrowed time. One misstep away from my whole world crashing around me. And I don’t want him to be caught up in the fallout.

  But even though I know I should be running as fast as I can, my heart and body feel tethered to him. I don’t know what would hurt worse, losing him or never having him at all.

  “Kiley.” Blake’s head lowers, his lips caressing my jaw. The rasp of his beard sends pinpricks of sensations throughout my body. “Tell me what you need, sweetheart.”

  “You,” I answer truthfully, giving in and letting go of my fears in this moment.

  He groans, his lips suddenly covering mine. My own whimper vibrates in my throat, and I bury my hands in his hair. He lifts me up, my arms around his neck, thighs around his waist. I can feel the hard ridge of his cock pressed against me, and my panties are already soaked, my clit aching for friction, my pussy desperate to be filled by him.

  He tugs at the hem of my shirt and lifts it over my head, then unclasps my bra. There’s a fiery hunger in his gaze when he takes me in, before dropping his mouth and rasping his tongue around my hardened nipple.

  My head arches back and I cry out as he strokes and tugs on the tender tip.

  His eyes watch me as he switches to my other breast, dark, wicked hunger staring up at me. Each lick, each stroke goes straight to my womb, and I’m desperate for more. I reach for his shirt, tugging at it until he helps me pull it off, and it’s laying on the floor next to mine.

  Mouth back on mine, Blake kisses me, greedily, devouring each of my moans, the unyielding throbbing of my clit making me grind against his hips.

  “Blake.” His name is a plea. A plea he understands. Because the next thing I know, he’s carrying me to his bedroom and placing me on his bed. Expert fingers undo my jeans, and his lips and teeth rasp against my inner thigh as he drags them down, tossing them and my panties aside.

  And then his mouth is on my pussy, tongue licking at my folds. I fight to breathe as shards of sensations whip through me mercilessly.

  “I’ve fantasized about tasting you.” His voice is rough, guttural. “So much fucking better than I imagined.”

  I’m laid out under him, exposed, vulnerable, and yet I’ve never felt so safe in my entire life. It’s only an illusion. But for this moment, I lose myself in the fantasy.

  My fingers fist in the sheets as his mouth returns to my pussy, his fingers stroking my folds as his tongue dances across my clit.

  “Oh God, Blake,” I cry out.

  “That’s it, sweetheart. Come for me.” He presses my legs farther apart, devouring me with a decadent hunger.

  The sensations start as a small wave and build to a crescendo of such intensity that a strangled wail rips from my throat. It keeps coming, the pleasure, washing through my body, every cell exploding with ecstasy.

  It’s too much and not enough.

  I grip his hair, wanting to pull him to me, needing all of him.

  He kisses a trail up my stomach, over my breasts, then covers my lips.

  I start to unbutton his pants, but his hand catches my wrists.

  “Not tonight, sweetheart.”

  I pull back and frown at him. “But—”

  He kisses me again, soft, slow, his hand stroking my cheek. Then he reaches over and turns off the light, before pulling me into his arms.

  “Did I do something wrong?” I ask.

  He presses his mouth against the top of my head. “We’re going to take this slow.”

  Slow? It’s been two years of torture. Wanting him. Needing him.

  “What if that’s not what I want?”

  He chuckles, running a hand down my back, then slapping my bare ass gently. “It’s what you need.”

  What I need is him.

  I run my fingers down his ladder of abs, then over his erection that’s still straining against his pants. “Maybe this is what I need.”

  He chuckles, then kisses the top of my head. “Goodnight, Kiley.”

  I grunt, but a small smile touches my lips as I close my eyes.

  Sleep comes quickly, and for the first time in years, it comes without nightmares.

  Chapter Five

  Blake

  Kiley’s head rests on my chest, her body snuggled against me. And I let out a sigh of contentment, even though my balls ache like a motherfucker, and my cock strains against my pants, weeping for release.

  A release I’ll have to give myself, because I’m not going to push her.

  I saw the way she was ready to bolt last night when I’d told her I needed her to trust me.

  She’s not ready yet. And as frustrating as that is, I’m not willing to risk losing her completely. Which is why I made another call last night after she fell asleep. Whatever she’s keeping from me, I’m going to find out.

  Fucking trust issues, my head warns. But I’m not sure whose I’m more frustrated with - her or my own.

  I push the thought away, because I didn’t hire a private investigator just to dig into her past. I did it to protect her. She’s afraid of something, of someone, and I’m going to find out what and who.

  Kiley stretches beside me, and her eyes slowly blink op
en. There’s alarm there at first, but then she snuggles closer and murmurs, “Hi.”

  “Hi.” I grin at her, trailing my finger over the soft splattering of freckles on her cheeks and nose. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

  A smile stretches across her lips. “So are you.”

  I shift her on her back and run a palm over her curves. “I prefer ruggedly handsome.”

  She laughs. “I’ve heard you go by the name Adonis on the rink.”

  I grunt, knowing she’s referring to last year’s GQ article.

  Her arms wrap around my neck and she kisses my jaw, and says teasingly, “You must get tired of all those beautiful women praising you.”

  I lower my mouth to her breast, my fingers dipping between her legs. “Don’t care what other women think about me.”

  Kiley whimpers as my thumb finds her clit. “Is that why you keep all your girlfriends hidden?”

  I freeze and my eye twitches, defenses going up without warning. “I don’t have girlfriends, Kiley. And if I did have one, you wouldn’t be here in my bed.” I roll onto my back and scrub my hands over my face.

  “I didn’t mean...” She pulls her lip between her teeth and sits up, pulling the sheets around her. “I just haven’t seen you with anyone.”

  “Because I haven’t been with anyone. Not for a long time.”

  “Oh.”

  I sit up and rub the back of my neck. “There’s a reason I need to be able to trust you.”

  Even though I’m not looking at her, I know she tenses. “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have to apologize. This isn’t about your shit, Kiley. It’s about mine. The last relationship I was in, the woman cheated on me. It was a pretty fucked up situation and I went into a dark place for a while.”

  Kiley places her hand on my arm. “I didn’t know.”

  I shrug. “We’d been together for a while. I should have seen the warning signs, but I was too caught up in myself. Looking back, I think I loved the idea of her more than anything. A lot of the guys were getting hitched, starting families.”

  “I didn’t think that was something you wanted.”